


Shout It To The Rooftops

by otfuckingp



Series: And, Well, In Summary [2]
Category: Hamilton - Miranda
Genre: Agender Character, Agender Peggy, Alternate Universe - College/University, Alternate Universe - Everyone Lives/Nobody Dies, Alternate Universe - Roommates/Housemates, Angst, Fluff, French, Friends to Lovers, LGBTQ Themes, M/M, Nonbinary Character, Nonbinary Lafayette, Pining, Slow Burn, Texting, Unresolved Romantic Tension, Unresolved Sexual Tension
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-08-01
Updated: 2016-08-01
Packaged: 2018-07-28 17:18:11
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,916
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7649614
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/otfuckingp/pseuds/otfuckingp
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>John Laurens wants nothing more from the world than to get away from it all, away from South Carolina, away from his overbearing father. College is his ticket out. He plans it all out, packs up everything and heads across the country to Kings' College, New York City.</p><p>He has no idea how the rest of it happened, he doesn't have a good explanation. He certainly didn't mean to go to college and fall in love with his roommate. Then again, nobody plans to have Alexander Hamilton as a roommate.</p><p>(This is a companion work to my other work 'And, Well, In Summary" but it can be read alone.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Shout It To The Rooftops

**Author's Note:**

> So the response to my idea to rewrite this all in John's POV was overwhelming, so I decided to just up and do it. 
> 
> If you have no idea what I'm talking about, go read my companion work And, Well, In Summary!
> 
> http://archiveofourown.org/works/7344976/chapters/16684900
> 
>  
> 
> As always leave a comment and let me know what you think, maybe give me kudos if you think I've earned it. Comments and kudos are my lifeblood and most of my inspiration to write! Also I really love talking to you guys :)

John Laurens was not a fan of change. Ever. He had a long history of balking at new things, be it a new set of clothes, different paint for his room, even haircuts. This led to a lifetime of clothes falling apart at the seams, peeling wallpaper in his bedroom that depicted racecars even when he was 15, and shaggy hair that his father was forever nagging him over. It had only gotten worse with age, and fell past his shoulders by now, a veritable lion’s mane of curls that he refused to tame, no matter what his father said.

Ah, his father. Henry Laurens was possibly the one thing John would accept change over. Would even welcome change for. To put it delicately, John’s relationship with his father had never been stellar, which might be part of why John jumped at the chance to go to college in New York City, over 700 miles from his small-town hell in South Carolina. It might have been part of the reason John actively

Henry Laurens had not exactly been supportive of this idea. “Jack,” he’d said, glaring down his nose, and _God do I hate that name,_ “All your life I have been lenient of your…rebellions.” He said this with such ice that John had to resist flinching, “But this is a step I cannot tolerate. There is no reason for you to go so far for college, not when there are perfectly respectable universities right here at home.”

 _Yeah right, because this is ‘home’ to me,_ John had thought bitterly. Not that he would ever say it aloud, no siree, he valued his skin the way it was, thanks. Instead he had said, “But father,” he spoke with a certain formality that had been mandatory with his father since birth, “King’s College is perfect for the degree I’m pursuing, there isn’t anything as well suited in South Carolina.”

Henry’s eyes had narrowed. “You have yet to tell me your degree field, Jacky. I do hope you’ll be following the family name and pursuing politics, or at the very least Law?” There was a hard edge to his voice, flint and steel, daring John to challenge, daring him to dissent.

All his life, John had balked at that tone of voice; he had shrunk into himself and acquiesced. That day, John welcomed a change with open arms; he spoke back. “Actually, father, I’m going for Sciences, which is why out of state is preferable.”

“While I must say I am disappointed, Jacky, I cannot say I am surprised. You always were disobedient.” John had tried very hard not to flinch, to remember all the consequences that usually came with the word _disobedient._ Henry continued, “Do not think that there will not be consequences for this later, especially not if it is questioned why the son of a senator is appearing to flee so far from home. Your mother and I will discuss this later, for now; you had better go and pack.” John’s stomach twisted, _she’s not my mother, my mother died years ago and you know it, you want to get a rise out of me._ He did not say this aloud, but it was very apparent that Henry understood anyway. John didn’t stop his hands from curling into fists, didn’t try to tamp down the fire in his eyes as he glared at his father.

Stiffly, “Very well, father.” He slammed the parlor door behind him.

All things considered, that had gone well.

\--

Henry Laurens did not make the trip to New York with his son. Neither was overly upset about this fact. John rented a trailer, packed up about half his stuff into it, and left. There was no great ceremony about it, no acknowledgement from his ‘parents.’ It was simply that John woke up in South Carolina at 5am, and by 6pm, he was in New York.

The drive up was long, filled with silence and intrusive thoughts banging against his skull. He tried not to dwell on the tearful goodbyes of his siblings; he would see them again come Christmas anyways. He had to promise to call Marta a million times before she would let go of his shirt, Harry was sulking at being the only boy left at home, and Mary-Eleanor was really too young to understand. His heart twisted. _God, I can’t wait to see her again. I’m going to miss so much._

The more intrusive thoughts reminded him of how _alone_ he was, how he had full control of his life for the first time. _I’m gonna be a terrible adult; how can I be expected to control things like my own bedtime and eating habits?_

He ignored these thoughts by turning up the radio and singing obnoxiously.

\--

It took a further three hours for John to find his building, find his room, and unload all his things from the trailer. He sent a text to one of his old friends, Hercules, who had gone to King’s College last year.

**To Hunkules; Wassup dude its jlo, just got 2 kings. Could use some help unloading, r u here yet?**

John received no reply. _I guess he isn’t here yet. He did say he was going home for the summer. Maybe he moves back  in tomorrow?_ So he was left to his own, hauling boxes through the sweltering August heat. _Ever the melodramatic, it’s only like 70 degrees out, South Carolina is way worse._ Unsurprisingly, that thought was not very comforting.

 _Why does my dorm have to be on the third floor?_ John lamented, not for the first time and certainly not for the last, as he hauled one of the final boxes up the stairs. One saving grace was the fact that his roommate hadn’t arrived yet. The last thing he needed was to have a first impression be of him all sweaty and gross and red.

It took a further couple hours for John to unpack everything, and he was warring with himself the whole time. _I could totally do this tomorrow. No, I’d totally leave it for like, years._ This was true. The only time it’d ever get done was right now, when motivation was still prevailing. Otherwise, no dice.

He didn’t even bother with food before falling into his (newly made with much distress) bed.

\--

The next day was an anxious ball of oh-wait-what-do-I-do now. _I have full control of my life and what am I doing with it? Not much._ It was a victory in and of itself when John found where the food was kept. _I have literally no need to find anything else on campus at all, ever. This is enough._

And then it was 11:30, and John had nothing to do for…well, he hadn’t really thought that far yet. In truth, he didn’t have all that much to do other than wander around campus, collect his schedule, and look into sports.

So that was what he did. Kings’ College wasn’t the biggest of schools, most of the buildings were incredibly old; it seemed almost revolutionary-war era. There was the main quad, a courtyard adjacent, and a bunch of little outbuildings scattered around in a five-mile radius. John remained astounded by his own ability to get lost, somehow finding himself in the middle of nowhere after only a few minutes of wandering.

 _I mean, there are much worse places to get lost in,_ John thought to himself as he took in the little park. It was relatively secluded, behind a cluster of brownstone buildings that John had no name for; indeed, if he’d known what they were he could have probably figured out how to get where he was going. It wasn’t large; there was a little forested area with a winding path through, leading to a little flowery field. In the center, a couple of stone benches surrounding a pond with— _are those turtles???_

Now, it’s worth knowing that John had an, ahem, obsession with turtles. He wasn’t entirely sure why, but it probably stemmed from all those summer camps where they were supposed to be doing _scientific_ things and John had just wanted to draw the animals. And indeed, over the years, John had gotten quite good at drawing turtles (read; he had entire sketchbooks full of the things).

There were probably dozens of turtles just bobbing around in the shallow water, sunning themselves on rocks, nibbling at the ferns by the bank. John kind of wanted to squeal. He didn’t, but it was a close call. Instead, he pulled out a little notebook and pencil that he always kept handy, sat on one of the benches, and started doodling. He’d just finished a pretty detailed one of a baby turtle sitting on a rock near him when the first drops began to fall.

It wasn’t really a heavy rain, but John had never been a fan of storms. Mostly for their art-ruining capabilities. He swore as water spattered across his notebook, making the ink run, and hastily shoved it in his pocket. He jumped up from the bench and hastened his way back to the dorm.

\--

It had taken John far longer than was sensible to find his way back to the dorm. By the time he returned, he was sufficiently waterlogged, and ready for a long nap. Also some sulking about his ruined turtle doodles. He collapsed facedown onto his bed, groaning, and let himself succumb to sleep.

\--

It wasn’t a half hour later that John was awoken by the sound of the door handle turning. For a split second, his stomach dropped and _whywouldsomeonetrytobreakinohmygod,_ before he remembered that the door was locked. Silently, he raised himself out of bed, and was about to go for a horror movie call of “who’s there?” before his brain kicked into gear and he remembered, _Oh, right. I have a roommate. That’s a thing that’s happening. And I’ve locked the poor guy out._

Well, that simply wouldn’t do at all. John squashed down the slight shame rising in his stomach at the idea of _I actually thought someone was trying to break in, oh my god,_ and instead grabbed a shirt at random off the floor. He winced slightly as he passed the mirror; his hair was horribly frizzy from the rain earlier, and he still looked half-asleep. _Yikes. Way to make a first impression, Laurens._ To make up for it, he put on his best broad smile, the sugary-sweet one that he wasn’t entirely sure belonged to him, and swung open the door. “Hey, I’m—“

The words died in his throat. The grin dropped right off his face. John felt vaguely that this wasn’t a proper greeting, standing staring slack-jawed at someone, but he _couldn’t help it._ The man standing before him, he was…he was…breathtaking. He was quite short, but that wasn’t saying much when you stood next to John. He had inky-dark hair that hung loosely around his shoulders, and wow, it looked so _soft,_ John just wanted to tangle his fingers in it. He was vaguely self-conscious of his own frizzy locks, and wondered if it was appropriate to try and tame them now. _Probably not._

And then John dragged his gaze down to the man’s eyes, and the breath was punched right out of him. His eyes were soft, and dark, and intelligent, and steely like they’d seen too much, and a thousand other things that contradicted and tumbled over and over one another in John’s mind and made no sense but just _were._ ‘

Distantly, John realized that he was still just standing, staring. _Pull yourself together, man, c’mon, back on your feet._ Desperately he wracked his brains for any information about this roommate that he was supposed to know. _They gave me a goddamn sheet the other day, I should totally know this stuff. Uuummm….Alexander? Yep, that’s it. Don’t remember anything else._ To be fair, it was pretty damn hard to remember anything at all while he was staring at those eyes, they were magnetic.

“Sorry about that, just woke up, I’m a little out of it. You’re…Alex? I’m John, nice to meet you.” He slapped that grin right back across his face, tried to look as if he wasn’t totally caught off guard by the fact that _oh my god I get to live with this guy._

Alex was just standing there, looking sort of dazed. “S-sorry what?” _Poor dude, he’s probably just nervous, this is all a little overwhelming._ Belatedly, John realized it could have been him that made Alex look so bewildered. _John, stop eyefucking him when he’s right there, calm the fuck down._

“I said I’m John.” As an afterthought, he slapped on his last name, “Laurens. I guess you’re my roommate, Alex, right?” Seeing confusion flit its way across Alex’s face, he said, “It was on the sheet. C’mon in.”

With that, John slipped out of the doorway to make room for Alex, and took a moment to compose himself. He took a few deep shuddering breaths, ran a hand through his hair, mentally screamed _pull yourself together_ a few times, and turned back to face his new roommate. And when he did, his heart gave this little twinge that made John simultaneously think _oh hell no_ and _fuck yes._

Alexander was standing in the middle of the room, staring around with a look that John could only describe as wonder. He wasn’t particularly sure why, but John thought that Alex looked intensely adorable like that, eyes wide and mouth open. He watched Alex’s eyes wander across his side of the room, and felt his face burn. _Why did I decide to hang up all my posters? What if he’s…no. _

John decided to break the silence before his thoughts started doing his head in with unfounded worry, and said, “So it seems like we’ll be living together for the next while, at least until you get sick of me,” _please don’t get sick of me,_ “so we might as well get to know each other. He extended a hand to Alex, trying not to think about how precarious this moment was in terms of friendship. Balanced on a knife edge, one slip meant disaster.

 _Or maybe I’m just a dramatic asshole,_ he thought as Alex shook his hand. “W-we probably should…” Alex stuttered. John pretended he didn’t think it was kind of adorable, _he’s cute when he’s nervous. Well, he’s cute in general._

Out of nowhere, Alex asked, “Are those protest posters? That’s pretty awesome, I’ve always wanted to go to one but never got the chance, and civil rights are just so important--” and just as suddenly as the words began, they were choked off. John got the sense that Alex had an entire river of words just begging to rush forth, and was restraining himself. _What’s he like when he really gets going…?_ Internally, he cheered, _so he isn’t a bigot, fuck yeah._

“Yeah, they are. The posters I mean, not the civil rights thing, but obviously that too,” And it was John’s turn to cut himself off. He felt his face flush scarlet, _oh my god, were those even words? I’m not sure what I just said there but I don’t think it was coherent at all. Let’s try again,_ “I mean of course they’re important, that’s why Social Work is my minor. My major is Marine Biology, and those don’t really go together but I don’t care, I couldn’t let either of them go. What about you?” _There we go. Full sentences, bravo, now just keep doing that and stop acting like you’re twelve._

Alexander started, and John heard the underlying passion in his voice when he said, “PoliSci and Law double Major, with an English Minor.” And then, almost an afterthought, “Marine Biology? I guess that explains the turtles then?”

John grinned. _Now this is something I can ramble about. Let’s go!_ “Sort of, but I also just like drawing turtles. They’re adorable! I mean, so are most things, but turtles especially.” What he really meant was, _turtles are adorable but they’ve got some serious competition for my favorite thing right now._ He simultaneously hoped and did not hope that Alex read between the lines.

Alex suddenly looked quite as if he wasn’t really looking at John so much anymore, but rather looking through him. John got the sense he wasn’t really in the room, but more down some mental pathway he could never hope to follow. He didn’t know how long the silence lasted, but he knew it was rather odd, especially as he was about 80 percent sure Alex was still staring at him, whether intentionally or not. He took a little time to let his eyes rove over Alexander again, before deciding on something that he’d never have done two days ago.

 _Let’s be a little brave…_ “Hey, so I don’t know about you, but I’m getting kinda hungry, do you want to join me for lunch?” Getting no response, he rapidly backtracked, “I mean you probably don’t, you’d probably rather get unpacked and settled in, but if you don’t I think I remember how to get to the cafeteria from here—“

“John, sure. I can always unpack later, and yes, I’m _starving._ ” John started cheering internally again.

He flashed his best coy smile, reveling in the fact that _did he blush a little bit I think he might have,_ and said, “Well then, let’s go.”


End file.
